


Trapped in a Nightmare of My Own Design

by MotherOfBeardedDragons



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Injury, Magic, Needles, Nightmares, Psychological Trauma, Sedation, Sickfic, The Avengers Are Good Bros, matt murdock is an avenger, stephen strange whump, this was supposed to be a drabble dammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfBeardedDragons/pseuds/MotherOfBeardedDragons
Summary: While on a mission Doctor Stephen Strange is hit by a dark energy spell that traps him in his own nightmares. The team struggles to keep him safe and calm while he endures his own personal hell. They're there for him when he emerges on the other side physically and psychologically hurt. Can they help build up the broken sorcerer's strength and confidence again? More importantly, will Stephen Strange let go of his ego and accept the help he needs?





	1. Sorcerer Down

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a drabble and now is it's own multi-chapter thing. Lots of hurt/comfort and team bonding. It's not Civil War or anything after compliant really (except for Doctor Strange). This is set in a perfect world where the Avengers (including Matt) are a big happy team living in the Avengers tower. 
> 
> Series rated T for some language and violent nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy reading it as well! 
> 
> Possible trigger warnings in this chapter for needles and use of sedatives as well as very mild violence.

   Stephen Strange felt the wave of dark energy come towards him and knew he couldn’t stop it. A wave of dread rushed over him before the spell seared into his being. He sank to his knees and heard screaming. It was his screaming. That would explain the concerned looks on his teammates’ faces. He tried to warn them; tried to tell them what was happening but the world was fading to black. He desperately fought to cling to consciousness because he knew what was happening. He knew what awaited him. But the blackness won over and the master of mystic arts found himself plunged into his own nightmares.

   Clint quickly repelled down from his perch on top of the building. He had seen Strange get hit by a black cloud then start screaming. He was now laying on the ground writhing. Clint ran over to find Natasha kneeling over him trying to check his pulse despite his flailing and mumbling. “What’s going on? Was it some kind of biological attack?”

   Natasha shook her head. “Some kind of magic.”

   “Dammit. I miss the good old days of weapons and poison. Not all this magic bullshit,” Clint muttered.

   “You and me both.”

   “Where’s Cap and Thor?.” Clint knew Tony had flown off to help evacuate civilians. The comms were down. Probably because of the goddamn magic.

   “They apprehended the hostile and are taking him to Fury.”

   “A magic user? How’d they manage that?.” They hadn’t even realized the attacker was a magic user at first which was probably how he managed to take Strange by surprise.

   “Thor hit him with his hammer when he had his back turned. It’s hard to do magic when you’re unconscious. We still have the magic suppressing cuffs.” The cuffs had been made for Loki and this sorcerer was nowhere near his level so the cuffs would definitely hold. Fortunately Loki was on their side now. Most of the time anyway.

   Clint and Natasha’s conversation was interrupted by an agonized moan. They turned their attention back to Stephen. He was clawing at the ground, his fingernails covered in blood.

   “Shit.” Clint grabbed his wrists which only made the man more frantic. “Come on Strange, it’s ok. We’re not going to hurt you…” Clint was cut off by a headbutt, which he managed to mostly dodge. He fell backwards and Stephen kept flailing, scraping the side of his face on the pavement. “We need to calm him down until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

   Natasha started murmuring to him in Russian, softly stroking his hair while avoiding his attacks. This either helped or whatever was tormenting the sorcerer decided to take a break because he calmed down some. He was, however, still clearly in pain. Clint carefully slid his jacket under his head trying not to disturb him anymore than necessary.

   Tony had apparently managed to get through to the rest of the team because a few moments later they saw a ship land nearby. Bruce came jogging up with a medical kit accompanied by Matt Murdock, a recent addition to the team. Matt had become Bruce’s unofficial medical assistant; his enhanced senses came in handy for detecting injuries.

   “You’re a little late to the party,” Natasha greeted them.

   “I don’t see how this is a party,” Bruce replied with a smirk. “Tony and Steve are taking the attackers in. Thor went to find Loki to see if he can figure out what type of magic this is.” 

   “Fantastic,” Clint muttered. He and Loki had finally moved past animosity toward one another. But they weren’t exactly pals.

   Bruce knelt down to begin assessing Strange.

   “I’d be careful…” Clint tried to warn him when Stephen suddenly attempted to grab Bruce by the throat. Fortunately due to Stephen’s damaged hands and the fact that he was basically unconscious he didn’t get a good grip. Clint and Matt jumped in, grabbing his wrists while Natasha tried to calm him down. Bruce got up off the ground.

   “How long has he been like this?,” Bruce asked coughing. Fortunately he didn’t look green. Attempted strangling was an occupational hazard at this point.

   “Probably fifteen minutes. It comes and goes. He’s sort of conscious but not coherent at all,” Natasha informed him. By this point Stephen was screaming.

   “Fuck. His hands. We’re probably hurting him,” Clint yelled with realization. He quickly moved grip to Strange’s bicep; Matt followed his lead. This, however, left Stephen’s hands free which he used to start clawing at himself and managed to leave long scratches on his arms. “He keeps hurting himself. I think he’s trying to get away. It’s like he’s being tortured.”

   “We’ve got to do something but I’m afraid to give him a sedative. I don’t know if he’s even conscious.” Bruce looked at Matt, who had his head tilted towards Stephen.

   “It’s weird. It’s like he’s sleeping but somewhat conscious. It’s almost like he’s having a nightmare.” Matt had enough experience with nightmares, both himself and his time with the Defenders, to know what one sounded like. The rhythms of sleep combined with fear and confusion.

   “How’s his heart rate?,” Bruce asked him digging through the med kit and pulling out a syringe.

   Matt tried to listen as he and Clint fought to keep him down. “It’s actually not too fast, it’s like he’s sleeping.” This was surprising considering how hard he was fighting.

   Bruce pulled out a vial and filled the syringe.

   “I’m going to give him a mild muscle relaxer. I’m a afraid to give him a sedative. This should keep him relaxed enough to not hurt himself.” Bruce crawled over to the group and handed Natasha a large looking syringe.

   Clint tried to keep a poker face but Matt heard the slight change in his heartbeat and raised an eyebrow. “Not a fan of needles?,” he asked. Damn him and his super hearing.

   “Torture. One of the times anyway. Sick bastard used needles,” Clint said quietly.

   Matt nodded. “I’m sorry.”

   Clint shrugged, “It’s embarrassing really. A badass spy afraid of needles.” It was one of the reasons he avoided medical like the plague. Pun intended.

   “Get him on his side” Bruce ordered as he tore open an alcohol wipe. It was easier said than done, but Matt and Clint managed to get the panicked, and somewhat violent, sorcerer on his side. At this point Stephen’s agonized groans and yelling had turned into something closer to whimpers. Clint felt like an asshole. He knew they were helping their friend, but it felt more like torturing him. And speaking of torture Bruce gestured to Natasha to uncap the needle.

   He pushed Stephen’s robes out of his way and pulled down the waistband of his pants slightly.

   “This needs to go deep into the muscle. It’ll be better to do this in the hip,” Bruce explained. as he wiped down the area of muscle adjacent to the hipbone. Strange gave an irritated groan.

   “I know it’s cold. I don’t know if you can hear us Stephen, but try to relax. We’re trying to help you,” Bruce calmly tried to soothe him as Natasha handed him the syringe.

   Clint pointedly looked away. Now was not the time to have some sort of flashback.

   Bruce checked to make sure there weren’t any air bubbles then jabbed the needle deep into the top of the gluteal muscle. Stephen yelped in surprise and pain and renewed his efforts to escape.

   “You almost done Bruce?,” Clint asked as he and Matt tried to wrangle the man. Natasha joined their efforts.

   “He’s tensing up his muscles, I’m having a hard time getting the medicine in,” Bruce explained with slight irritation. He was trying to concentrate on not breaking the needle or hurting Strange.

   "Well I'd probably be tense too."

   "Clint, shut up." After a few more agonizing moments the syringe finally emptied and Bruce pulled the needle out and capped it. At that moment Stephen managed to get an arm loose and elbow Banner in the face.

   “Ow,” Bruce said laid out on the ground. “What the hell,” he groaned in irritation.

   “To be fair you did just stab him in the ass with a giant needle. I’d be pissed too,” Clint commented as the three of them struggled to finally get the sorcerer settled back down as the medication began to kick in.  

   “Not helping Clint,” Natasha replied as Bruce shot Clint an irritated look.

   “What? Just saying.” Clint was really over this. They all were. Where the hell was Thor and his idiot brother? They all hated seeing a teammate in pain. Especially when they didn’t know exactly what the hell was going on. At least Strange was no longer flailing around. He still had a pained expression on his face though.

   “Someone’s coming,” Matt stated with his head tilted to the side. A moment later a portal of green energy appeared and Loki stepped out as it swirled around him.

   “Diva,” Clint muttered under his breath. Matt snorted. Thor came stumbling out of the portal a moment later and collided with his brother almost knocking him over.

   “Idiot,” hissed Loki.

   “I’m sorry brother, did I ruin your entrance?,” Thor replied in irritation as he tried to regain his footing. Interdimensional travel was a bitch; he always ended up with some vertigo. Steve stepped out of the portal and almost tripped over Thor, who was crouched on the ground trying not to vomit. Tony Stark flew out and landed next to them as the portal closed.

   “Look, if the Three Stooges are done with your slapstick routine can we focus on the problem?,” Tony asked in a huff.

   “I understood that reference,” Steve stated. Tony rolled his eyes as he retracted his helmet. Thor finally stood up as Loki went over to the group huddled around Strange.

   “Tell me exactly what you saw happen,” he commanded. Clint bit back a rude comment for the sake of their teammate. He could put up with Loki’s attitude if he could figure out what the hell was happening to Strange. He and Natasha described the sorcerer and the dark cloud of magic as best as they could.

   “Were you able to question the spellcaster?,” Loki asked Steve and Tony.

   Tony shook his head. “He’s still unconscious thanks to Point Break”

   Loki looked at Thor. “So it’s your handiwork brother? You’ve always been incapable of incapacitating an opponent without clobbering them.”

   “I’m sorry, I should have let him render another of my teammates unconscious and then gently taken his hand and led him to a cell.” Thor glared at his brother.

   “Can we please focus,” Steve finally cut in.

   Loki sighed. “Fine.” He held up his hand and a green energy slowly washed over Strange. “It’s as I thought. It is a spell designed to trap its victim in their own nightmares. It only affects those with magic. It binds itself to one’s own magic, therefore the spell is unable to be reversed without causing damage. It’s quite effective really. But as far as curses go it’s pretty unsophisticated.”

   “Is there anything we can do? What will happen to him?,” Bruce asked with concern.

   Loki shrugged. “You must let the spell run its course. It shouldn’t last more half a day. In the meantime try to keep him from harming himself. He’s fighting the nightmares but it is bleeding through to the physical realm.”

   “Will there be any long term effects?,” Steve questioned.

   “No,” Loki sighed, “He will make a full recovery. The curse is simplistic- it is designed to incapacitate and cause pain, not maim or kill. Boring really.” Loki dissipated his magic. “Now if we’re done here I have things I must attend to.”

   “Need to polish your horns?,” Clint asked, receiving a scowl that made him smirk.

   Thor laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Thank you brother. We appreciate your help in this matter.” Thor knew his brother would act like this was a major inconvenience to keep up his image, but deep down he felt good helping someone. Especially with magic; something he was an expert in.

   While Loki feigned nonchalance, Matt caught the telltale increase in his heartbeat that signalled his happiness with the praise. He smiled to himself. Loki still longed for his big brother’s approval.

   “Sentimental fools,” Loki muttered with something slightly bordering on fondness. Loki stepped out from under his brother’s hand, flipped Clint off, and then disappeared in a portal.

   Clint snorted. “At least he finally learned some sign language.”

   Steve took in the situation. “Ok, so we know what’s happening at least. And we know he’ll be fine. We just need to take care of him in the meantime and be there for him when he recovers.”

   “We’ll focus on supportive care. Treating the symptoms as they occur since we can’t cure him,” Bruce stated.

   “We’ll take him back to the tower. We’ve got all the supplies you’ll need there. I’ll fly ahead and get things ready,” Tony said as he lowered his helmet and took off. Everyone knew at this point that Tony hated standing around in a tense situation. He had to be moving around doing things. Just like Steve had to make plans.

   “Clint and Natasha, would you fire up the jet? And send Wong a message letting him know what's happening. Thor and I can move Strange. Bruce and Matt can get the supplies ready and together.”

   Everyone jumped to their respective tasks, glad to be doing something, and the team prepared to move out. This was going to be rough, but they would all get through it together.   

 

    

 

  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not beta'd so please excuse any errors. I've gone through and made some minor edits after publishing. 
> 
> I'm also not a medical expert so I apologize for any medical inaccuracies. I try to do my research, but the internet isn't quite the same as actual medical training.


	2. Circles of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen Strange endures nightmare after nightmare as he fights to break free of the spell and keep his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter from Stephen's perspective. 
> 
> Warnings for nightmare violence.

   He knew what was going to happen and he was powerless to stop it. That was the worst part really, knowing what to expect. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. Fortunately for him the sorcerer that hit him was pretty mediocre so the spell would probably last less than a day. Unfortunately for him it was absolute fucking agony.

   Maybe for a more average person it wouldn’t be so bad. But he had a never-ending supply of nightmare material tucked away in his mind. He wasn’t exactly a newbie when it came to nightmares. He had always been a vivid dreamer and the stress of medical school had made his nightmares worse. But that was nothing compared to after the accident. And after that Dormammu.

   He thought maybe knowing this spell wouldn’t actually kill him would help. Plus he'd be reliving nightmares he was already familiar with. He was wrong. The worst part was that somewhere in his mind he knew what was happening but he couldn’t break free of the nightmares no matter how hard he fought.

   It started as he expected. The screech of rubber, the horrific sound of grinding metal and shattering glass. The sickening feeling of falling and spinning. When the crash happened it was so fast he could only remember bits and pieces. Now he relived it agonizingly slowly. Felt the dashboard and steering wheel devour his hands and felt the crunching and grinding of bones. The icy cold of the water. Wondering if it would drown him. Hoping it would. Knowing everything was over. In real life he had blacked out but now he was trapped. Blinding pain in his hands. Freezing water sucking the warmth from his body. Blood dripping from his face. He tried to free his shattered hands but no matter how hard he fought he was trapped. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

   Suddenly blinding light. The hospital. The concerned and pitying faces of his colleagues. Christine. He was rushed into surgery but he could see everything. The skin of his hands peeled open, flayed apart. Muscles, and tendons, and nerves and bones exposed. Blood everywhere. All the pins and stitches. After the horrors of surgery the hell of recovery. Weeks of being unable to take care of himself. Trying to hang onto his pride despite the pain and the seemingly endless cycle of embarrassing medical procedures. The indignity of having others take care of his most personal needs. He was useless. Helpless. Worst of all was that these were his colleges witnessing his humiliation. His body’s betrayal.

   He relived the nights of pain so bad he wept and prayed to die. He only prayed to die because he needed hands to kill himself. The days of strangers touching him and taking care of his body because he couldn’t do it himself. The frustration, pain, humiliation, fear, depression. All the emotions swirling around him and he was trapped in a bed unable to run. His hands felt like they were being crushed. He was screaming.

   Then darkness. Then Dormammu. Death after death. All equally horrendous. Impaled, crushed, burned, flayed, broken. He felt a stabbing pain in his hip. He fought before more spikes impaled him. He wondered if this was ever going to end. If he would go crazy. He didn’t know if his mortal mind could survive such torture. And his mind was all he had left. He was on the ground. His body felt weird. Like he couldn’t move.

   He was in the OR. A patient on the table. They were crashing. But he couldn’t move. He watched helplessly as the last breath left their body, the monitors screaming. Then it was silent. She stood to face him. Head cracked open, brain exposed. More people joined her around the table, all ghosts. All dead. At his hands. He hadn’t lost many patients, mainly because he wouldn’t take their cases, but he remembered every single one he lost. Some on the table. Some later. They all stared at him. He wishes they would lash out. Attack him. But they stare.

   And he can’t move and the looks on their faces strike him all the way down to his soul. Why was there green mist in the room? The ghosts disappear.

   Then there are the nightmares of what might be. Watching those he cares about die. Wong. Christine. The Avengers. The Sanctum in flames. The Cloak torn to shreds. These nightmares might be the worst. Because he’s left standing at the end of all the carnage.

   He fights. Physically, mentally. He does everything he can to break free of the darkness and nightmares. But they keep coming. One after the other. One circle of hell into another. All within his mind.

   Then after what feels like an eternity he finds himself breaking through. Getting closer to the end of the darkness. He finally banishes the rest of the nightmares from his mind and opens his eyes.

   He immediately panics. He’s disoriented. He feels sick. He doesn’t know where he is. It’s too bright. He can’t move-he’s tied down. He can’t breath. He thought it was over, it’s not over. There are people around him, he should know them. But he can’t think. He’s cornered; panicking. There are hands on him, pushing him over. He tries to fight but he’s exhausted and in pain. He feels a sharp stab of pain in his left hip. He must have made a sound of pain, someone was rubbing his hair, whispering words of encouragement. 

   His ears were ringing, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. His vision was blurry. Then through his jumbled up mind a coherent thought. The tower, the Avengers. He was safe. It was over. But he was tired. Why was he tired, he didn’t want to go to sleep. He made out some words “panic attack….sedative...over.” His eyes slowly closed despite his fighting and he hoped it really was over. Fortunately in the drug induced sleep his mind was blank. He had broken free of the nightmares.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try to include physical stimuli from the last chapter bleeding through into the dream world (as happens in real life, which is a weird sensation). 
> 
> The next chapter will be from the team's perspective as they try to take care of Strange while he fights off the last of the spell. After that the recovery. I promise it will get happier and fluffier.


	3. Supportive Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce, Matt, Thor and Clint keep an eye on Stephen at the tower as they wait for this to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight content warning for needles and use of sedatives as well as panic attacks.

   The plane landed on the roof of the tower and Steve and Thor carefully carried Doctor Strange into the medical area. Tony had realized that as accident prone as the Avengers were (like Clint) they could use their own medical area. He also knew how much everyone hated hospitals so he tried to make it as un-hospital like as possible. The bed was made to look like a normal bed and the equipment was housed in sleek wood cabinets. The IV pole was made of wood and looked like a coat hanger. The walls were painted a warm brownish tan color that matched the tile floor. It felt more like a  guest room than a hospital room.

   The two Avengers laid Stephen on the bed and stepped out of Bruce’s way. The doctor quickly took Stephen’s vitals and nodded.

   “His vitals look ok and the Valium is still working. We need to get him in some comfortable clothes, I think there are some scrubs in that cabinet. I want to clean up some of these cuts and abrasions.” Bruce dug through the cabinet for disinfectant and bandages as Steve pulled out a pair of scrubs and he and Thor carefully changed Strange out of his robes into the new clothes. He might be pissed about it later, but right now they had bigger worries.

   “What do we do now?,” Steve asked as Bruce cleaned the scratches on the doctor’s arms causing Strange to wince and twitch slightly.

   “We really just need to keep an eye on him. I want to start an IV, but I’m afraid to because he might start flailing again when the medication wears off. I also don’t want to give him another dose if I can help it. We have some restraints. I hate to do it, but it might be necessary.” Bruce had finished cleaning the scratches on Stephen's arms and now moved onto the scrapes and cuts on his face, causing the doctor to inhale sharply. Bruce sighed. “Honestly there’s not a whole lot we can do right now. We just need to keep him comfortable and safe until this passes.”

   Steve nodded. "Just keep us updated. Let us know if you need anything." As much as he wanted to stay, Steve knew it was best to give Bruce space to work. The whole team couldn't cram in there. Besides, he had an enemy rogue sorcerer to take care of. He and Thor left with promises to check in later.  

   Several hours passed as Bruce and Matt took turns watching the sleeping man. The medication was starting to wear off as Stephen started moving more and became more restless. Clint came in to see how things were going.

   “I think he may be starting to come out of it, his heart rate sounds different. Almost like someone waking up,” Matt informed them, listening intently. He was familiar with the intricate heart rhythms associated with sleep. He had insomnia in college and spent a lot of time listening to Foggy’s heartbeat. He could tell when someone was falling asleep, sleeping deeply, sleeping lightly, having a nightmare, or waking up all by listening to their heart.

   About twenty minutes later his observation turned out to be right. Stephen opened his eyes and promptly freaked out. If they thought his outbursts earlier were violent they hadn’t seen anything yet. Strange almost laid Matt out; he had barely managed to dodge his elbow. Matt noticed he fought with elbows and kicks instead of his fists (for obvious reasons) so Matt adjusted his defense. Fortunately for them Stephen wasn't using magic or they would have been screwed. 

   Clint joined him in trying to restrain and calm down the frantic sorcerer. He was awake but delirious. Bruce came over with a syringe, looking regretful.

   “Dammit. This shit again?,” Clint muttered.

   Bruce sighed. “I didn’t want to give him any more drugs but we have to get him calmed down before someone gets hurt. I need his left side this time.”

   Clint and Matt managed to once again restrain Stephen so Bruce could do the injection.

   Matt winced knowing it was painful. He could hear the needle pierce deep into the muscle; the thick medication forcing itself in. Stephen yelled out in pain, and Matt quietly tried to reassure him, gently pushing his hair from off his face.

   After a few moments Stephen's struggles stopped and his breathing slowed down as his body relaxed.

   “Fuck,” sighed Clint. Matt and Bruce couldn’t help but to agree.

   Thor came running in. “I heard the commotion, what has happened?”

   “Stephen woke up and had a panic attack. I had to sedate him again. I gave him a pretty low dose. Enough to knock him out for a while. Since it’s sedation and not actual sleep he shouldn’t have any dreams at all. I want to go ahead and use the restraints so we’re ready when he wakes up again. I think he’ll be less disoriented but I don’t want to have to use any more drugs if I can help it,” Bruce explained as he put the used syringe in the sharps container and pulled out a small container from under a counter.

   “I am familiar with these,” Thor said bitterly nodding at the restraints Bruce pulled out. They were like the ones that had been used to bind him when he had been cast out and made mortal. He hated to do this to his friend, but he knew they needed to make sure Stephen didn't hurt himself further.

   The three of them managed to secure his legs and wrists (being careful about his hands) to the bed. Bruce checked his vitals again.

   “Where’s the rest of the team?,” Matt asked. The tower sounded empty.

   “Steve and Tony went to a briefing and Natasha went to interrogate the prisoner,” Thor informed them.

   Clint snorted. “Well that bastard’s as good as dead. Nat doesn’t take too kindly to people who mess with other people’s minds.” After watching what Clint had gone through then experiencing it herself (along with the rest of the team) Natasha had made it her mission to stop those who used mind control to hurt other people.  

   “Stephen should be out for about another hour if you guys wanted to take a break,” Bruce informed them.

   Clint nodded. He could use some coffee. He headed towards the door and then suddenly stopped in his tracks, remembering something.

   “Where’s the flying blanket that’s always following him around?,” Clint asked nodding at Strange.

   “That is actually a good question. He was not wearing the cloak when he joined in the battle this morning,” Thor wondered.

   “We should probably talk to Wong," Bruce suggested.

   Clint nodded, "Nat managed to get a hold of him, but didn't get to talk long. Just enough to brief him on what's happening. Said we'd call him later. She had to convince him to stay watching the Sanctum and not come portaling in."

  "I can stay here while you take care of matters," Thor suggested. 

   Bruce nodded, and went to contact Wong. Clint headed towards the kitchen, Matt behind him. Thor settled in to watch over his teammate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm not a medical expert. But I did do a good amount of research on drugs, so I'm probably on a watchlist now (if I wasn't already). This has become longer than I thought. Every time I think I have it mapped out I keep coming up with more to add!


	4. We're A Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team have to face how this is affecting them all. Natasha brings a surprise. Stephen wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part! I really wanted to explore how this affects the different members of the team. I was just going to have them bring Stephen to the tower and him wake up, but then feelings happened.

   Bruce walked into the room where Thor was sitting beside Stephen’s bed, staring at the wall deep in thought. Bruce cleared his throat.

   “I got in touch with Wong. He was on a mission. Stephen had sent the cloak with him so that’s why Stephen didn’t have it. Wong’s guarding the Sanctum now; he’s worried that if anyone, or anything really, finds out that the Sanctum’s guardian is down they may try to attack. Wong wanted to rush down here and find someone else to guard the Sanctum but I convinced him Stephen was in good hands and we’d keep him updated.”

   Thor nodded. “Wong is a good man. The Sanctum will be safe with him guarding it. Stephen is lucky to have such a good friend.”

   Bruce looked at Thor for a moment. “Are you ok? You seem kind of...off.”

   “I think we all are ‘off’. I believe this ordeal has left everyone quite shaken.”

   Bruce sighed. “It’s true. It’s just so hard to see a teammate like this. And to not be able to do anything about it. I feel so useless.”

   “You’re not useless. You’ve done a great deal to ensure his safety and comfort. And you’ll do a great deal more to ensure his recovery. You are a good man Banner.”

   Bruce smiled. “Thanks Thor.”

   The two were quiet for a moment then Thor finally spoke, more quiet than usual. “He reminds me so much of my brother. Intelligent, highly skilled, stubborn, reckless. But also cunning. I would hate to see him go down the same path.”

   “So you’re worried this spell will make Stephen, what? Turn evil?...Not that I’m saying you’re brother’s evil, what I meant is…”

   “It is ok. I know your meaning,” Thor sighed, “I have some experience with dark magic. I have encountered it many times in my years on Asgard and other realms. I have seen it drive people mad. My brother included. I do not think that this spell will cause any permanent effects..”

   “But you’re just worried because he reminds you of your brother and you don’t want him to end up like Loki.”

   “To a degree, yes. Loki has suffered much pain in his life, and that pain drove him to darkness. I do not want the same thing to happen to our friend.”

   “Look, I don’t know you’re brother well. We have more of a bad history than a good one. But Stephen and Loki are very different people. They have similarities, sure. But Stephen suffered one of the worst things possible; he became permanently disabled and lost his career. And he came out of it a better person. A stronger person.”

   “That is true. I am overthinking things,” Thor said, rubbing his hand through his hair in slight frustration.

   “It’s because you care.”

   “That I do. It’s amazing I’ve felt more at home here on Earth among my friends than I did on Asgard.”

   Bruce smiled, “That’s a big compliment.”

   Thor shrugged, “I am not suited for the throne. For ruling.”

   “I think you’d be a great king. But you have to do what makes you happy.”

   “Yes. I have found much happiness on Earth. And I believe my brother has found some sort of peace here as well.”

   “See, your brother isn’t completely lost. You don’t have anything to worry about. Stephen’s going to be fine.”

   Thor finally smiled, “I believe you are right. He is surrounded by his friends. We have all helped each other through dark times and we will help him through this.”

===========================================================

   Matt inhaled deeply and took in all the smells coming from the city below. Some unpleasant like garbage, smoke, and hot asphalt from a construction site. But he focused on the good ones: pastries cooking at a bakery next door, flowers from a small park nearby, the smell of rain in the distance. It had been an exhausting day. He hated to see a teammate in distress but more than that he hated to see a teammate go through something he feared. Being trapped in nightmares. Loki said the spell only affected magic users, but what if it had somehow been him? What would he have seen? Losing his sight, those last glimpses of his dad’s worried expression. Elektra’s death. Being buried under a building.

   These things already haunted him, he couldn’t imagine hours of continuous torment. Seeing someone so strong and confident like Stephen in such a terrible state scared him. He hated to admit it, but it did. He tilted his head as he heard Clint coming.

   “Isn’t it a little cliche to be perching on a rooftop overlooking a city?,” Clint asked. A strong aroma of coffee surrounded him. And a faint smell of dog, but in a good way.

   “I’m not perching,” Matt replied. He turned around. “Are you drinking coffee straight out of the pot?”

   Clint shrugged. “Want some?”

   Matt politely declined. Clint sat down in the chair next to him. They spent a few minutes in companionable silence.

   “So...this really sucks,” Clint began. He really wasn’t good at sharing his deeper thoughts and feelings but he had to talk to someone.

   “Yeah. I’m glad he’s going to be ok. It’s just...it’s hard. Seeing him suffering like this.”

   Clint nodded. “I’ve seen teammates hurt before. Shot, stabbed, broken bones, you name it. But it’s when stuff messes with people’s heads. That’s the worst.” Matt noticed a slight increase in Clint’s heartbeat. It made sense. Matt realized how hard this must be for Clint.

   “I was just thinking about what it would be like to be trapped in your own nightmares. What I’d see.”

   Clint nodded. “I know. After the whole thing with Loki...I feel like part of me hasn’t been the same since. I’m afraid of losing control like that again. Magic mind control bullshit is the worst.” Clint took a big drink of coffee.

   Matt smiled sadly, thinking of Elektra, “That I can agree with.”

   The two sat and talked for a while, both feeling better afterward. Matt decided to go inside to see if Bruce needed any help. Clint followed, finishing off the rest of his coffee. While he hated opening up to other people, it did feel good to talk to someone who understood. This had them all freaked out. There was no shortage of nightmares among this team.

========================================================

   Thor and Bruce were still talking when Matt and Clint came back in the room.

   “We miss anything?,” Clint asked. Bruce filled them in on his conversation with Wong.

   “You should get some rest,” Matt said finally. He had noticed how Bruce was steadily becoming more exhausted.

   “What? No, I’m fine. There’s a lot to do.”

   “He’s still unconscious. He probably will be for a while. It’s been a long day. And you’re hurt. ”

   “I’m fine…”

   “You have a contusion forming under your right eye where Stephen got you with his elbow. It’s going to be a nasty bruise. Your throat’s sore from where he tried to choke you. I can tell from how you’re swallowing.”

   “Damn,” said Clint.

   Bruce sighed, “It’s minor stuff. Stephen’s our priority right now."

   “How about you rest for a while and we will promise to summon you if anything at all happens. We need you strong to aid in Strange’s recovery,” Thor suggested, putting a hand on Banner’s shoulder. He knew that Bruce would drive himself into the ground; he always put others’ needs before his own.

   “Ok,” Bruce finally conceded. “I’ll rest for a while. Let me know if anything at all changes. Immediately.” He didn’t say it, but the only reason he was willing to take a break was because he was afraid of the Other Guy. He was worried if he got too tired he may not be able to keep a handle on things if it got stressful.

   Bruce left to go to his rooms. A few moments later Natasha came through the door.

   “How’s it going?,” she asked casually. Clint knew she probably had the room bugged, but was trying to make polite conversation.

   “No change really,” Matt replied.

   “Did you bring him?,” Clint asked as a blur of yellow came bounding into the room crashing into him.

   “Yep,” Natasha said smiling as Lucky, Clint’s yellow lab, licked his face. Matt smirked. He had heard the dog coming. The whole team knew Lucky, aka Pizza Dog, very well.

   “I figured Lucky might be able to help us out,” Clint said. He patted the bed next to Strange and Lucky happily jumped up and curled up next to the man. “I read animals can help with sleep and healing and stuff. They bring therapy dogs to hospitals.”

   “No one could possibly be down with this fine beast here,” Thor said affectionately as he gave Lucky a belly rub.    

   “How’d the ‘interrogation’ go?,” Clint asked Natasha, grinning. Natasha smiled.

   “Let’s just say he won’t be up to tricks anytime soon.” Clint held out his hand and Natasha gave him a high-five, rolling her eyes. “He did confirm what Loki told us. Binds to magic. No lasting damage. Shouldn’t last any longer than twelve hours.”

   “That’s good,” replied Matt.

   The three talked for a while. Thor stopped petting Lucky who immediately went to sleep and snored softly. A few hours later Bruce came back into the room looking better rested. He looked happily surprised to see Lucky. Natasha left to meet with Steve and Tony and fill them in and promised to bring them dinner.

=================================================================

   Stephen was aware of the sensations around him before he was aware of where he was. Soft covers. Something furry and warm. Pleasant. He inhaled. Antiseptic, but also air freshener. He was hurting; nowhere near as bad as after the accident. But he still felt like he had been hit by a truck. His throat was dry. He coughed. He went to reach up to his face and was confused. He couldn’t move his arms. Or legs. For some reason he wasn’t too concerned. He remembered pain and nightmares and fear. But that was gone.  

   He slowly opened his eyes. Things were blurry then came into focus. He was in a medical area. The tower. He had been in here before (as a consultant, not a patient). He saw his three concerned teammates. Clint moved a dog from off his bed; the dog huffed at Clint and curled up on a nearby couch. Lucky.

   He looked at his arms. Restraints. Probably drugs. That would explain why he was so groggy. And calm.

   “Stephen, do you know where you are?,” Bruce asked calmly.

   Clint, Thor, and Matt stood back giving them space. Stephen nodded. He opened his mouth to reply then started choking. His throat was dry. Clint came over with water and a straw a moment later and helped him drink some. He finally got his coughing under control and his throat felt less like a desert.

   “You good?,” Clint asked.

   Stephen took a deep breath.“Yeah, I think I’m ok.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked Bruce and Thor's dynamic in Ragnarok. I also think Clint and Matt would be a good team. Also, Pizza Dog cameo! (In the comics Clint has a dog he rescues named Lucky, who really likes pizza. Hence the nickname pizza dog).
> 
> I also wanted to clarify Natasha didn't kill the enemy sorcerer. Just fucked him up. 
> 
> The next part will be Stephen's recovery, both physically and mentally.


	5. Long Day's Journey Into Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen begins his recovery both physically and mentally. His teammates are right by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will once again reiterate that I am not a medical expert. I did my best to research things though.
> 
> Slight content warnings for needles and vomiting (nothing graphic).

   Thor stepped out to inform the rest of the team that Doctor Strange had woken up while Clint carefully removed the restraints from Stephen’s wrists and legs. He was calm, especially with the medication still in his system.

   Bruce was taking his vitals. “Everything looks pretty good considering.”

   “How long was I out for?,” Stephen asked.

   “About seven hours. Do you know what happened?”

   Stephen nodded. “I know the spell. I knew what was happening, I just didn’t have time to do anything. I was too slow. I should have known he was a magic user.”

   “But he wasn’t using his magic. He was purposefully hiding it so he could blindside you,” Clint pointed out.

   Stephen shook his head. “There are ways of detecting magic even when it’s not actively being used. I was too distracted.”

   “Yeah, because the guy was shooting at us. That tends to be distracting. This wasn’t your fault.”

   Stephen didn’t look convinced. There had to have been some way to have stopped this. He couldn’t be that powerless.

   “Let’s just focus on getting you better," Bruce said kindly. "You’re pretty dehydrated, so I’d like to start an IV. I didn’t want to do that until you woke up, in case you pulled it out. I did clean up some of the scrapes and cuts though.”

   Stephen looked down at his arms and took in the deep scratches. No wonder his arms hurt. Then again, everything hurt at this point. “I don’t remember getting hurt before the spell,” he said confused.

   “You were fighting while you were asleep. We tried to keep you still but you got kind of banged up,” Bruce said apologetically.

   That would definitely help explain why he felt so terrible. 

  "Are you experiencing any pain?,” Bruce asked as he gathered up what he needed to start an IV.

   Normally Stephen would be stubborn and stoic and live up to the old notion that doctors made the worst patients. But he was tired and in pain, and he was having trouble focusing. His guard was down. “Yeah. It’s not the worst I’ve experienced though.”

   Bruce nodded, “You have some cuts and scratches on your arms and face. We also had to restrain you a couple of times so there might be some bruising.”

   That all made sense. That’s probably why he felt like he had been beat up.

   “I also had to administer a couple of doses of Valium, in the left and right hip. You’ll probably be sore from that. The effects should wear off in a few hours.”

   That definitely explained a lot. He felt like his head was foggy. He could also definitely feel the pain from the injection sites. He would probably be more embarrassed if he didn't feel so terrible. 

   “Is there anything else hurting?” Bruce asked making sure he didn’t miss anything.

   Stephen paused for a moment then finally caved. “My hands.” He hated admitting pain, especially when it came to his hands. But he was at the end of his rope. He was physically and mentally exhausted and couldn’t think straight. The pain in his hands obviously wasn’t as bad as it had been after the accident, but it was still a lot worse than usual.  

   Bruce nodded. “I can give you some pain medication after I get the IV started.”

   Bruce began unwrapping the IV kit. Stephen was definitely no stranger to needles and IV’s (especially after his accident) and didn’t have any phobias. But having a large needle jammed into a vein was really not what he wanted at the moment when he was feeling so terrible. He knew it was necessary but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dreading this to some degree.

  Sensing his change in heartbeat Matt came over to his side.

   “Alright, so I’m going to use your forearm instead of the back of your hand, I just need to find a vein,” Bruce said as he wrapped a tourniquet around Stephen’s left bicep and inspected his inner arm. Having found a suitable vein he wiped the area down with alcohol. Stephen just hoped he was good; he really did not want to be stuck multiple times.

   “We talked to Wong, let him know what was happening,” Matt said conversationally, “We told him we had things under control. He’s guarding the sanctum.”

   Stephen nodded. He knew Murdock was trying to distract him with conversation, sensing his discomfort. Classic medical tactic. He was mainly upset Matt was able to tell he was so uneasy about something as simple as an IV. He wasn’t a child.

   “That’s good. I don’t want him to worry too much,” Stephen replied. He watched as Bruce uncapped the cannula. Damn he forgot how big the IV needles were. At this point it was more annoyance at having to suffer additional pain than fear.

   Bruce looked at him, “Ready?.” He nodded.

   “Alright, take a deep breath,” Bruce commanded. He did and flinched as he felt the sharp stab of pain under his skin. It burned for a moment and then he relaxed. Bruce had gotten it on the first try. He removed the needle and taped everything down.

   “Wong also said the cloak was doing well. He said it misses you and is sulking,” Matt said.

   Stephen was grateful that he wasn’t fussing over him or noting his current anxiety. He smiled, “Sounds about right. I’m sure the cloak is following Wong around like a sad puppy.” He did really miss the cloak. But the image of the cloak harassing an annoyed and stressed out Wong was pretty funny.  

   Matt laughed. Stephen looked around as Bruce finished hanging a bag of fluids. “Where’s Clint?.” He had been too preoccupied to notice that he was gone.

   “I think he took Lucky for a walk,” Matt replied, understanding why Clint had needed to step out. Stephen nodded.

   “I’m giving you a low dose of some pain meds. We can increase it if needed,” Bruce said as he used a syringe to inject the medication into the port. Stephen nodded. He hoped they wouldn’t have to, but he had developed a tolerance after the accident. But it had been a long time since he had had to take pain meds. After a while he started to feel drowsy. 

   Clint returned a little while later with Lucky. Lucky sniffed around the room for a minute and then curled up on the chair next to Clint. Matt left for a while to take care of a few things, but said he would be back that night.

   Stephen dozed off for a while; the pain medication had kicked in. He hated how foggy it made his brain feel, but it was worth it for the relief from the pain he had been experiencing. His hands were now a dull ache instead of a shooting pain. He fought to stay awake, trying to talk to Clint. He had to hand it to the archer, he carried on the conversation even if Stephen wasn’t making complete sense and kept momentarily falling asleep before jerking awake.

   He knew he had to sleep sometime. He knew that even if he had nightmares they wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as the ones he’d experienced under the spell. But that didn’t mean he was in a hurry. He wasn’t thinking completely clearly at the moment. He really hated the side effects of medications.

   He looked up as Thor and Natasha came in the room.

   “How are you doing?,” Thor asked with concern. The guy looked like he could break you in half with his bare hands, but he was one of the most genuinely caring people Stephen had met.

   “I’m ok, considering,” he replied. He wasn’t really feeling like conversation at the moment, but he wanted to appear strong for his teammates. And for his own pride.

   Thor nodded, “That is good, the team has been very worried. They all wish to see you when you are well.”

   “But we’ll let you rest for now,” Natasha added knowing Stephen definitely wasn’t up for a lot of company right now. “We have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

   Clint snorted, “There usually is after your ‘interrogations’.”

   Natasha smiled at Stephen, “Let’s just say our enemy sorcerer will think twice about attempting anything like this again.”

   Stephen nodded. He had no sympathy for the guy, so the idea of Natasha beating the hell out of him didn’t bother him. He knew she wouldn’t kill him or torture him. Just intimidate the shit out of him and rough him up a bit. It happened occasionally to people in custody after a team member got hurt. He knew she probably showed restraint; this hit close to home considering what she had gone through in the Red Room and what had happened to Clint. She was not a fan of any sort of mind control or manipulation. He didn’t know a lot about her past but from what he did know about the Red Room it was understandable.

  “Thanks,” he said.

   She nodded. It had made her feel better. It was her way of looking out for the team. Making sure the people that hurt them wouldn’t try it again.

   She and Thor left after a little while. They made everyone promise to get some rest. Apparently Tony was planning a small team party for when Stephen recovered. Of course, small to Tony was not what most people considered small. It did give him something to look forward to. Stark’s parties were always a spectacle.

   Bruce checked in with him, “Still doing ok?.”

   Stephen nodded. To be honest his stomach was starting to bother him. It was probably just the combination of all the meds. It would pass. He didn’t want any more medication or medical attention or worried teammates. He just wanted to be over this and back out there doing his job. He’d hopefully get a good night of sleep and feel more like himself tomorrow.  

   He watched Clint give Lucky a belly rub for twenty minutes. Every time he would stop, Lucky would smack him with his paw. Bruce was reading a book on the other side of the room.

   Stephen tried to relax. The nausea was coming in waves. He really hated this side effect of pain medication. He figured he could meditate. If he kept himself relaxed the nausea would probably pass. He tried breathing deeply for a couple of minutes but couldn’t focus. He swallowed thickly. His heart rate had picked up and he was sweating. He saw Clint looking at him.

   “You ok,” Clint asked. Strange looked really pale. And shaky.

   “I’m fine,” Stephen replied slightly irritated. He could manage. He wiped his palms on the bedspread.

   Ok, he wasn’t fine. He was about to jump up and try to run to the bathroom (and hopefully not rip out the IV) when Clint shoved a trashcan onto his lap. He was just in time. Stephen retched loudly. He hadn’t eaten anything so it was bile and burning stomach acid. Clint held the trashcan steady until Stephen finished being sick and sat back shakily against the pillow.

   Bruce held up a cup of water with a straw for him to sip. He was grateful; he didn’t think his shaking hands could hold a glass right now. He drank just enough to get the taste out of his mouth. He knew better than to drink too much.

   “You could have told me you were feeling nauseous,” Bruce said gently. He knew Stephen was prideful. And yes, doctors did make bad patients. But he didn’t want him to suffer unnecessarily after all he had been through.

   “I thought I had it under control,” Stephen replied slightly apologetically.

   “Yeah, that’s not something you really control,” Clint said as he nudged Lucky out of the way and spread out on the couch.

   Stephen sighed, “I know.” He wasn’t trying to be a stubborn idiot.

   “I’ll get some Zofran,” Bruce replied giving Stephen a slight pat on the shoulder. At least he wasn’t irritated with him. He just genuinely wanted to help him.

   “It’s cool. I threw up on Nick Fury after a mission once,” Clint replied.

   Stephen raised an eyebrow. He was surprised Clint was alive to tell the story.

   “Well, I had food poisoning. Natasha was too busy laughing her ass off to help me. Luckily Coulson got me away before Nick could do any permanent harm. I used the air vents to get around for almost a month so I wouldn’t run into him and get my ass kicked. I thought he was over it but then a few months later he threw me off a building. Stark caught me. Fury said that it was an accident but we both knew that was bullshit.”

   “Wow,” was all Stephen could say in reply. It was such a Clint Barton story.

   “He wasn’t trying to kill me, he told Stark to catch me. We were cool after that.”

   Bruce came back and hooked the syringe into the port on the IV. “This should kick in pretty quick,” he said as he pulled it out after injecting the medicine.

   “Thank you,” Stephen told him. He really was grateful for Bruce taking care of him and for being patient with him.

   Bruce nodded, “You’re welcome. You’ll get through this. I know it’s hard, but try to be patient. Your body just needs a few days to build its strength back up.”

   “And after that?,” Stephen replied, voicing his worry out loud for the first time. Sure, his body would heal. But his mind? Would he live in constant fear of the nightmares?

   “That might take more time, but you’ll be ok. We’ll be here for you,” Bruce replied kindly. Everyone on the team knew what it was like to be afraid of your own mind. Stephen nodded and leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. But he was afraid to sleep.

   He woke every few minutes throughout the night. Matt came in at one point to switch out with Bruce. Clint was passed out on the couch. Stephen had trouble finding a comfortable way to sleep. His entire body hurt. And he was still really sore from the shots from earlier in the day. It was crazy to think it had only been one day. He shifted again and tried to relax.

   Lucky, sensing Stephen’s discomfort, jumped up on the bed and snuggled up against him. Stephen rested his hands against the dog’s comforting presence. He focused on the rise and fall of Lucky’s warm belly. The soft snores as the dog slept. How he twitched slightly in his sleep. Before he knew it Stephen finally fell asleep.

   He did have some nightmares. But they were nowhere as terrible as the ones he had experienced. He woke up confused and anxious a few more times but managed some sleep. After one nightmare he sat up and tried to regulate his breathing. Matt was by his side, guiding him through deep breathing, a comforting hand on his back. He finally got calmed down and sat awake for a while, petting Lucky. Matt sat with him, not saying anything. Stephen was grateful, he really didn’t want to talk.

   He at least managed to sleep a few more hours. It was about ten when he woke up. Clint was sitting on the couch drinking a pot of coffee.

   “Morning,” he said in between gulps.  Stephen groaned as he sat up. Damn he was sore. He noticed Bruce had unhooked his IV the night before. Hopefully he would take the cannula out of his hand, it was starting to itch from the adhesive. He slowly and carefully made his way to the bathroom. He took in his appearance in the mirror. He looked like hell. About what he expected. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was pale. Not to mention the cuts and scrapes on his face. He tried to smooth his hair down a little, not that it made much of a difference. 

   When he emerged a few minutes later, Bruce had a cup of tea for him. Fortunately his hands were cooperating enough for him to hold the cup. The warmth felt good. He took a deep breath. Darjeeling. It was one of his favorites. Bruce knew his teas, having lived in India.

   “God, I don’t know how you can drink tea in the morning. It’s so unnatural,” Clint said to Stephen and Bruce.

   Bruce chuckled, “You do know that a good majority of the world drinks tea, right?”

   “Yeah, well I don’t get it,” Clint replied, chugging the rest of his coffee.

   The rest of the morning went smoothly. Clint went off to get some rest and take care of a few things. Lucky hung around with them. He curled up at Bruce’s feet as he sat reading.

   Bruce removed the IV cannula and Stephen managed to get the strength to get a shower. Fortunately this one had a shower chair. He took in the various cuts, scrapes, and bruises and sighed. At least nothing looked infected.

   The areas from the shots were bruised and slightly swollen, but not concerning. He was slightly embarrassed even though the medical professional part of his brain told him it wasn't a big deal, he had given plenty of people shots. He did his best to shrug it off and stepped in the shower. The hot water felt amazing on his sore muscles. He was glad to wash off the grossness of the previous day.

   He felt better after showering, a little more alert. Thor brought him down a light breakfast. The god was actually a really good cook. Fortunately Stephen’s stomach had calmed down. He felt a little stronger after finally eating something. Bruce looked him over and was satisfied that everything was ok. Stephen only needed a strong dose of acetaminophen, he didn’t want any more painkillers. He was still slightly on edge and was exhausted. But he was doing better than he had thought he would be.

   He took a deep breath. With the help of his team he was going to get through this.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read and left kudos/comments! Chapter title courtesy of my homeboy Eugene O'Neill.


	6. Portals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen is already stubborn and reckless, but now sleep deprivation, pain, and nightmares have been thrown into the mix. Everyone agrees he isn't really thinking clearly or making the best decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally was able to finish this chapter! I've been wanting to write but I've been working weird hours. I officially don't know how long this is going to be. I thought I was close to wrapping it up but started writing and was like, never mind.

   The words on the page all seemed to blur together. Stephen rubbed his eyes and tried again to focus on the book in front of him. He needed to occupy himself, distract his mind. But he was too damn tired to focus on anything. He sighed.

   Bruce wanted him to stay in the medical area for another 24 hours and in the tower for 48 after that. He could understand Bruce’s reasoning, he wanted to make sure everything was ok. But it was frustrating. He wanted to get back to the Sanctum. He needed to; he needed to get back to work. He knew Wong was more than capable of guarding it but he felt useless lying around.He slammed the book shut in frustration.

   It was late in the afternoon; he was feeling better than he had that morning, but still not great. He was exhausted and his body ached all over. He had been resting all day and had convinced the team to go take care of things they needed to. Bruce had finally agreed after making Stephen promise to call him if he needed anything. Natasha had stopped by about thirty minutes earlier to check on him.

   He dreaded tonight but he knew he needed sleep. He would probably sleep better in the Sanctum. But he wouldn’t be home for three days. He had thought about using his sling ring- it was in the pocket of his robes. He was weak, but he could probably open a portal just long enough to slip through. He knew everyone would probably be pissed and he’d have to deal with an irate Wong, but at least he’d be home. He could spend time in the library and maybe find a sleep spell or even a potion against nightmares.

   Of course he knew it would be a stupid idea to leave the tower, much less use magic. But it was tempting. He also knew he wasn’t thinking straight between the lack of sleep and everything he had gone through. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. 

   He turned on the TV, finally settling on a nature documentary, and felt his eyes growing heavier. He jolted awake a couple of times. He finally stood up and paced the room, trying to shake off the drowsiness. He was tired and restless and needed to get out of here. He went over to the chair and dug through the pocket of his robes until he found the sling ring. He winced as he managed to get it on over his swollen fingers.

  Closing his eyes, he took and deep breath and tried to focus. He tried to let the magic run through him. He felt the faint tingling of magic; definitely not the strong rush he was used to. He moved his hand in the familiar circular motion to make a portal. There was a shower of sparks but nothing happened. It was like his early days of training. He sighed and dug deeper into his magic. There were more sparks; he could almost see the shape of the portal. He focused on his destination and drew even deeper on the little magic he had.

   He was starting to get dizzy, but he was so close. He could pass out after he opened the portal and was in the Sanctum. He pushed through the vertigo and tried to move towards the portal. He was pretty sure it was to the Sanctum. It was hard to tell because he was seeing black dots. His feet felt tingly as he took another step; he was almost there. His knees suddenly buckled and the portal closed in an explosion of sparks. He groaned as he fell onto his already sore side. He tried to push himself up but the room was spinning and the blackness on the periphery of his vision was getting bigger. He laid his head back down on the floor as everything faded to black.

=============================================================

   Matt was down the hall from the medical area in one of the many libraries in the tower. Tony had gone crazy buying books in braille after Matt had joined the team, so he had no shortage of things to read. He frowned as he heard a faint buzzing. He knew that sound. It took a moment, then he jumped from his chair in recognition. Magic.

    Working with the team he had become accustomed to the sound and sensation of magic. It affected the energy in the area around it and usually sounded like a weird buzzing or ringing. He was so focused on getting to Stephen’s room that he plowed into Clint (who fortunately wasn’t carrying a pot of coffee for once). The archer nimbly jumped up from the floor as Matt pushed himself off the wall.

   “Hey man, what’s…?” 

   “Something’s happening. Magic. Strange’s room,” Matt interrupted as he kept running. Clint was quickly by his side pulling a knife from a sheath on his ankle while somehow still running.

   The two burst through the door and found Stephen passed out on the floor. Clint looked around. “I don’t think anyone broke in. There’s no sign of a struggle.”

   “I think it was him. It sounded like his magic,” Matt replied.

   “Magic has different sounds?,” Clint asked as he checked Stephen’s pulse.

   Matt shrugged. “It’s like heartbeats. There’s subtle differences you notice when you spend a lot of time with someone. His magic sounds different than Loki’s.”

   “Less douchey?,” Clint replied as he began to try to lift Strange up. Matt smirked and helped him. The two had managed to get Stephen into bed when Bruce came in the room.

   “What’s going on? I heard running and doors slamming. Why is he knocked out?,” Bruce asked worriedly noticing the unconscious sorcerer.

   “Matt heard the sound of magic being used and ran down the hall. I joined him and we found him like this,” Clint replied.

   Bruce grabbed a tablet from the nearby table. “I can access the camera footage to see what happened.”

   “There’s cameras?,” Matt asked surprised. He could usually tell; Stark’s must be high tech. It worried him that there might be cameras elsewhere in the tower he didn’t know about.

   “Only in the medical area. Mainly for monitoring,” Bruce explained as he pulled up the feed. He tilted the screen to show Clint and hit play.

   “He tried to open a portal,” Bruce stated.

   “Why the hell would he do that?,” Clint asked.

  “He probably wants to get back to the Sanctum,” replied Matt. 

   “He has been really restless today.”

   “Whatever his reasoning, that was an idiot move,” Bruce said, setting down the tablet. “We don’t know what kind of damage that did. The spell binds to magic. That could have triggered a relapse.”

   “Shit, I didn’t think of that,” Clint said in realization.

   “In his defense he’s not exactly thinking straight right now. He’s sleep deprived and in pain,” Matt said.

   Bruce sighed. “I know. I’m just worried. I don’t want this to set back the progress he made.”

   “Maybe we can get Thor to consult with Loki again,” Matt suggested.

   Clint groaned loudly, “Do we have to? I’ve seen way too much Loki in the past week.”

   “You’ve seen him once.”

   “Exactly.”

   “I’ll go talk to Thor, see if he can ask Loki,” Bruce said.

   “We’ll keep an eye on him and let you know if anything happens while you’re gone,” Matt replied. Bruce nodded and headed towards the door.

   “Hey, be sure to give Loki a message for me,” Clint said flipping the bird with both hands. Bruce smiled and rolled his eyes, “I’ll be sure to pass that along.” He headed out the door.

   The two settled in to keep an eye on Stephen. They had thought they were past this point, but now they were having a bad case of deja vu.

   Stephen was still asleep when Bruce returned later with, fortunately, good news.

   “Loki said using his magic won’t re-trigger the spell or anything. But he’ll probably be weak. It takes time to build magic back up after a spell like that and he used the rest of his reserves. Fortunately we don’t have to worry about any new nightmares. We’ll just have on keep an eye on him. I want to keep him in the medical area a little longer since this probably set back his recovery time.”

   “He’ll love that,” Clint replied sarcastically.

   Bruce shrugged, “He’ll have to deal with it. We’ll need to make sure someone is with him all the time so he doesn’t try anymore stunts like this.”

   “He’s _really_ gonna love that,” Clint replied. Bruce sighed. He knew Strange was stubborn, and proud. He knew they would have their hands full for the next few days.

===============================================================

   Stephen felt himself slowly coming back to consciousness and groaned. He hadn’t had any nightmares, but he felt terrible, worse than that morning. He tried to remember what was happening, but he was so damn groggy. After a moment he took a deep breath. The portal. He had tried to open a portal. There was no telling where he ended up. He could be in one of the circles of hell for all he knew. It certainly felt like it. He opened his eyes in a panic and shot up.

   “Whoa, calm down man. You ok?”

  He looked around in confusion and then realized he was still in the medical area. He hadn’t gone anywhere. He sighed and sat back against the pillows, completely exhausted. He looked up to see a nervous looking Clint staring at him.

  “I’m...I’m good. Just a little confused for a minute,” he finally managed to get out.

  Clint nodded looking relieved he wasn’t going to freak out. “We were worried. We didn’t know if using your magic would re-trigger the spell or hurt you or something.”

   Stephen felt a moment of pure dread. He hadn’t thought about that. The spell was attached to his magic.

  “It won’t,” Clint said quickly, seeing his look of panic, “Bruce had Thor consult with Loki. It won’t cause the nightmares to come back or anything. It’ll just make you weak, delay your recovery.”

  Stephen sighed in relief and frustration, “Not one of my better ideas.”

   Clint grinned slightly and held up his hands, “You said it, not me.”

   Stephen groaned as he tried to sit up, “I’m definitely feeling it.” His muscles all hurt and he had a headache. He was also exhausted.

   “Bruce should be up in a minute,” Clint said picking up his tablet.

   Stephen sighed. Bruce was probably pissed. Maybe he'd Hulk out and smash him, put him out of his misery.  

   He and Clint sat in companionable silence. Clint could tell Stephen didn't feel like talking, so he played Galaga on his tablet while subtly keeping an eye on him. 

   A little while later, Bruce came through the door. “How are you feeling?,” he asked grabbing the small medical cart. He began to take Stephen’s pulse and blood pressure.

   Stephen shrugged, “Not great, but I’ve been worse.” He really didn’t feel like making small talk. He just wanted to be left alone and sleep.

   “You’re going to need to stay here a few more days,” Bruce said. Stephen was about to reply when Bruce shoved a thermometer in his mouth to shut him up and continued talking. “I also want someone with you for at least the next 48 hours.” Stephen huffed and waited for Bruce to take the thermometer out of his mouth so he could reply. He could just spit it out, but decided against it. Bruce was already irritated. 

   A few moments later the thermometer beeped. “You’ve got a fever,” Bruce noted mildly concerned. It wasn’t dangerously high, but enough to explain Strange’s somewhat erratic behavior.  

   Stephen ignored him, “Look, I appreciate your help. But I have to get back to the Sanctum. I have things to do. I can’t just lay around.” Stephen tried to push himself out of bed and almost ended up falling on the floor. Clint was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him back into bed. He had forgotten Clint was here. He was having trouble focusing.

  Bruce sighed, “Look, I didn’t want to do this…” He got up and calmly walked through the door.

  “Do what?,” Stephen asked with some apprehension. 

   A moment later a very serious looking Steve Rogers came through the door. “We’re going to have a talk,” he said sitting down firmly by the bed.

   Dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make sure Stephen wasn't ooc. I figured he's already stubborn and makes reckless decisions. Factor in sleep deprivation and everything he's gone through and he probably isn't thinking too clearly. 
> 
> Steve's Captain America "I'm disappointed in you" face is probably the worst punishment ever. It makes you feel like you kicked a puppy or something. The next part will pick up with Steve lecturing Stephen and telling him not to be a dumbass (which is really the pot calling the kettle black tbh).


	7. Work With Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen and Steve talk. Bruce and Matt make a plan. Clint drinks coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled writing the conversation between Steve and Stephen. I wanted to keep everyone in character while keeping in mind that Stephen won't be quite himself due to illness, injury, psychological trauma etc. I'm also Team Cap and feel like he's often painted as being an asshole so I tried to portray Steve as the strong team leader who is also understanding (being a stubborn idiot himself).

   Clint quickly slipped out of the room. He had been lectured by Steve before and wanted no part of that. Bruce was in the hallway.

   “You decided to sic Steve on him,” Clint noted.

   Bruce sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. I get that he’s a genius, but he’s acting like a stubborn idiot. I’m hoping Steve can talk some sense into him, or at least guilt him into cooperating more.”

   “Well if that fails we can get Natasha to threaten him.”

   “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Bruce replied. Clint agreed.

   Clint knew he had no room to talk; he wasn’t known for making smart decisions or being a good patient. But he hated to see his friend and teammate hurting himself because of his stubbornness, even if it was unintentional.

   Bruce looked at his watch, “I’ll give them about ten minutes then head back in. I need to finish checking him over to see if there’s any more damage from using his magic.”

   “ _More_ damage? Is he ok?,” Clint asked with concern.

   “He’s running a fever. It’s not high, but I want to keep track and make sure it doesn’t go up. I think it’s his body’s response to his magic being drained on top of the exhaustion. I also want to make sure he didn’t hurt himself when he collapsed. Honestly there’s no telling what illnesses or injuries he’s hiding.”

   Clint nodded, “We could get Matt in the room. Listen to his heartbeat, let us know if he’s lying.”

   “I might do that. I hate using Matt as a human lie detector but it would really help.”

   “In this case I don’t think Matt would mind.”

   Bruce nodded, “I know. We all want to help Stephen. But it all comes down to Stephen allowing us to help him.”

==============================================================

   Stephen and Steve stared at each other for a moment. Stephen was trying his best to look calm and confident, but he was pretty sure he was failing on both fronts. He was probably a few minutes away from falling over. But damned if he would show weakness in front of Rogers. He liked Steve; he was a decent guy. But he had never done well with authority, and he was exhausted, hurting, and feeling pretty irritable.   

   “So, what? Have you come here to intimidate me? Lecture me?”

   “I came here to talk,” Steve replied calmly. “You’ve been through something terrible. I know you’re strong and want to push through this.”

   Stephen sighed, “Please don’t patronize me Rogers. I don’t need a pep talk.”

   “This isn’t a pep talk. This is a ‘quit being a stubborn ass and let us help you’ talk.”

   “Look, I appreciate everything everyone’s done for me. I just can’t sit around here like some invalid.”

   “That portal you tried to open. It could have collapsed while you tried to get through it.”

   “I know, I...I miscalculated the amount of magic I had to work with,” Stephen grudgingly admitted.

   “Something else you’ve overestimated is how much you’ve recovered. Your body took a beating from the spell and all the other stuff. You’ve pushed yourself too much too soon.”

   Stephen knew he was right. He knew he made a mistake and that he really needed to rest. But that felt like admitting defeat, admitting that the spell affected him. “I need to get back to the Sanctum. I can rest there.”

   “I know you’re in a hurry to get home and get back to your life. But you need to recover from this first. You’ve got to let us help you. We know you’re strong and independent and could get through this on your own. But you don’t have to.”

   Stephen inhaled shakily. He was starting to feel dizzy again. He knew everyone wanted to help. He could tell Steve was genuinely concerned. But he had promised himself after the accident he would never be that vulnerable and helpless again. “I’ll be fine, I don’t need your help.”

   “You don’t look fine,” Steve pointed out. Strange was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He had cuts and scrapes all over. He was also shaky and slightly flushed. “Look, I get it. I was sick all the time growing up; I couldn’t keep up with everyone else. After the serum I told myself I would never be that weak, sick kid again. So when I woke up in a new century with everyone I knew gone, I pushed everyone away. Told them I was strong enough to handle things on my own. But I realized that the hardest thing is to admit you need help and let other people help you. That takes a lot of strength.”

   “So what? You want me to admit it? Yes, I’m sick and hurt and yes, I suffered through unimaginable nightmares.” Stephen was having trouble controlling his emotions. He was frustrated.

   “Most people wouldn’t be able to go through what you did and be up and moving around, much less trying to open portals, the next day. Trust me, no one here thinks you’re weak.”

   “I know. I just...I want this to be over.” Stephen was angry that he found himself close to being in tears. He knew that it was because he was tired and sick. And he was embarrassed. He hated for his teammates to see him like this.

   “We do too. That’s why we’re trying to help. The more you rest and let your body heal, the quicker you’ll be able to recover.” Steve put a hand on his shoulder, “Cooperate with Bruce and get some rest. You’ll be able to go home in the next few days.”

   “Ok,” he finally replied. He was too exhausted to argue. And he knew Steve was right. It was hard, but he needed to trust his teammates.

   “I’m going to get Bruce to come back in. Just remember we're all here for you. We've all been knocked down at one point or another,” Steve stated kindly. He knew Stephen would be fine. He just didn't want him to feel like he had to prove himself or go through this alone.

   Stephen nodded and Rogers went out the door. He knew he needed to let go of his ego and let everyone help him before he ended up hurting himself worse. He knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier.

===================================================================

   Steve met Bruce in the hallway. “How’d it go?,” Bruce asked.

   Steve shrugged, “Pretty good considering. I think he might calm down, for now at least. I’d still keep an eye on him. He's pretty shaken up, even if he's not admitting it.”

   Bruce nodded, “I know. It’s best not to leave him alone right now.”

   “Just let me know if you need any help.”

   “I think me, Clint, and Matt have got it. Thanks for talking to him.”

   Steve smiled, “Honestly, when it comes to not doing reckless things I’m probably not the best example.”

   “Yeah, but he respects you. Even if he doesn’t admit it.”

   “It’s mutual. He’ll pull through this. It’ll just be easier for him if he doesn’t do it alone.”

========================================================

   Stephen looked up as Matt entered the room and sat in a chair near the bed.

   “Bruce should be in soon,” Matt said. Stephen nodded. He had been thinking about what Steve had said. He hated everything about this situation, but he knew he needed to stop fighting everyone. Besides, he was too exhausted to. The dizziness was getting worse and his head was pounding.

     A little while later Bruce came in the room. He sat in the chair nearest to the bed. “So, let’s try this again. How are you feeling? And don’t say ‘fine’.”

   Stephen paused for a minute and sighed. “Worse than this morning.”

   Bruce nodded. That was a start. “What’s going on? I know you have a low fever.”

   Right, that might partially explain why he felt so bad. “Headache, dizziness. Probably from passing out. Plus the fatigue, aches and pains.”

   “Ok, I just want to take your vitals again. And make sure the fever hasn’t gone up,” Bruce said slipping a blood pressure cuff on his arm. Stephen tried to relax as Bruce checked his blood pressure and pulse. He also listened to his heart and lungs, which might have been overkill.   

   “Did you hit your head when you fell?,” Bruce asked pulling out a pen light and checking his eyes. He wasn’t showing any signs of a concussion. And there was no bruising to indicate he had hit his head, but Bruce wanted to be sure.  

   Stephen shook his head, “No, I fell on my side.”

Bruce nodded, “Is it all right if I take a look?.” Stephen paused for a moment then finally nodded and shifted his weight onto the side that wasn’t throbbing. Bruce carefully lifted up his shirt.

   “There’s a lot of bruising,” he noted. Stephen had figured as much. He cringed as Bruce put pressure on his ribs.

   “Does that hurt,” Bruce asked, noticing his discomfort.

   “Yeah, but I don’t think they’re broken. Probably just bruised.”

   “I think you’re right,” Bruce said carefully feeling the bones. Bruce palpated the abdominal area, not finding any signs of swelling or trauma. He put pressure on his hip, making Stephen sharply inhale. “Sorry, I know you’re probably still sore,” Bruce apologized. He didn’t feel anything wrong with the hip bone itself. He glanced at Matt, who nodded. He hadn't heard anything to indicate broken or fractured bones. 

   “I don’t think there’s any need for x-rays. It looks like it’s just bruising, and muscle pain. I can give you something for the pain in a minute,” Bruce said as he grabbed the thermometer off the cart. “You’re still dehydrated. I hate to do it, but I might need to start another IV.”

   Stephen sighed. That was the last thing he wanted right now. His arm was still sore from the one earlier. But he knew fluids would probably help with the headache and dizziness. And apparently fever, he noted as Bruce read the thermometer he had removed from his mouth.

   “Your fever’s gone up a degree. It’s still nothing to worry about, but I want to stop it from getting any higher. I should have left the IV in this morning, I’m sorry,” Bruce apologized.  

   Stephen shook his head, “I was doing better this morning.” He had been doing fine until he had tried to open the portal. That had just completely wiped him out.

   “I know. It set back your recovery. But we’ll get through this,” Bruce said putting a hand on his shoulder. Stephen wasn’t a very touchy feely person, but Bruce’s kind gesture felt good.

   There was a knock at the door and Clint entered with Lucky on his heels. “What’d I miss?,” he asked as he took a gulp from his large mug of coffee. At least he wasn’t drinking out of the pot.

   “Not much, I need to get some supplies, I’ll be back in a minute,” Bruce informed Clint.

   “I’ll give him a hand,” Matt said following Bruce out the door. Clint collapsed on the sofa. Lucky jumped up onto the bed with Stephen and licked his face.

   “I can tell him to get down if you don’t want him up there,” Clint offered. 

    “It’s fine,” Stephen said, scratching Lucky behind the ears, “I don’t mind.” He closed his eyes and tried to meditate; block out the pain, dizziness, and nausea really starting to bother him again. He tried to focus on feelings of calmness instead of trepidation. Lucky started snoring next to him making him smile.   

=======================================================

   “So what do you think?,” Bruce asked Matt as they walked towards the supply closet. There was a reason Matt had been sitting in.

   “He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t hit his head. I also didn’t hear any bones shifting, so I think you’re right and it’s just bruising. I know he’s in more pain than he’s admitting. I think he also might be nauseous but isn’t admitting it. And his heart rate did increase when you mentioned having to start another IV,” Matt said. He tried to recall everything he was able to detect with his senses.

   “I know,” Bruce said sighing as he grabbed the supplies he’d need, “I hate to do it. But he is dehydrated and this will make it easier to administer medications. I wouldn’t have taken out the IV this morning if I had known he’d relapse.”

   Matt nodded, “It’ll be ok. I think once you give him some medicine for the pain, fever, and nausea and he gets some fluids and rest he’ll feel better.”

   “That’s the plan,” Bruce said gather the rest of the supplies. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently must inflict maximum suffering on characters. Every time I think I'm nearing the end of this story I get new ideas that I want to try. 
> 
> I may have already mentioned how much I love dogs' empathy and intuition. They know when you're not feeling good and how to snuggle and make you feel better. 
> 
> Next chapter will be Stephen trying to regain his health while also dealing with some of the psychological aspects of what happened.


	8. We're Here For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen knows Clint, Matt and Bruce are there to help him. Will he finally accept his friends' help and stop fighting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love writing team bonding and making everyone share their feelings.

   Stephen took a deep breath and focused on rubbing Lucky’s head. The dog was sacked out. Bruce had tied the tourniquet onto his other arm (that hadn’t had an IV) and was looking for a vein. 

   Bruce pulled out an alcohol swab and wiped down the area when Stephen stopped him.  He gagged and grabbed the trash can that was still nearby (and had fortunately been cleaned). He ended up dry heaving several times, not really having anything on his stomach to throw up. He cringed at the combination of saliva and stomach acid. 

   Clint took the trash can when he nodded that he was done. He caught his breath for a minute as Lucky popped his head up; he had woken him up. “Sorry, go back to sleep,” he told  Lucky quietly, patting him on the head. The dog laid back down, but was keeping an eye on the man, concerned. 

   “I’ll get you some nausea medicine in a minute,” Bruce said sympathetically. Stephen was glad he didn’t lecture him on not informing him he was feeling sick. He nodded and sipped the water Matt handed to him. He hated having an audience, but he also was glad for the support. 

   He settled back against the pillows as Bruce found the vein and carefully wiped down the area again with alcohol. He pulled out the cannula and needle.

   “Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this,” Bruce said gently, noticing the doctor’s look of despondency. IV’s were already painful enough; having to have one put in when you were already sick and tired and in pain really sucked. He had been there and understood Strange’s pain. 

   Getting the needle in was harder this time since Strange was more dehydrated. Stephen inhaled sharply and made a slight noise of pain. Fortunately Bruce still managed to get it in on the first try. “Alright, that’s done,” he said taking off his gloves. He put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder, “How are you doing?,” he asked. The man looked a little paler and was shaky but didn’t appear to be too much worse. 

   “I’m ok. Glad that’s done,” Stephen replied laying back and shakily continuing to pet Lucky. He should be used to needles by now, especially after the accident and all the surgeries. But he was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and the anxiety was starting to get to him. He was fighting to keep in control of his emotions. 

   Bruce left and came back a few minutes later with some vials and a syringe. He injected the medications into the line, explaining what each one was. Stephen knew the names and what they were for (anti-emetic, fever reducer, pain medication), but his mind was too hazy to really keep up. Bruce checked his temperature again, which fortunately had only gone up half a  degree. He put a cool cloth on his head, which normally Stephen would protest against, but it actually felt good and he didn’t feel like arguing. 

   “You’ll probably be drowsy from the medicine, try to get some rest,” Bruce said, “we’ll be right here if you need anything.” 

   Stephen nodded, already feeling tired. He knew he should fight the sleep- the sleep might bring nightmares. But he would be willing to deal with more nightmares for relief from the exhaustion and pain. Hopefully he would feel less terrible when he woke up.    

============================================================

   Clint was sitting on the couch when Matt re-entered the room and sat down. Bruce had gone to restock some of the medical supplies. Stephen had been asleep for about an hour and Clint hoped he’s stay asleep longer. He really needed the rest. That was partly to blame for his bad decision (in addition to the pain and slight fever). 

   “Lucky’s still sleeping too,” Matt noted. The dog had been crashed out next to Strange the entire time. 

   “Lucky could sleep through anything. Part of my roof caved in one time and he slept through it,” Clint said amused. 

   “There’s been some research that’s said dogs can help you get better sleep. And that’s on top of the soothing benefits dogs have already,” Matt pointed out. 

   “Yeah, I’ve thought about training Lucky to be a therapy dog. Bring him to visit people in hospitals and nursing homes.”

   “He’d be good at it,” Matt agreed. He saw the comfort the dog was lending to Stephen. 

   “Have you ever thought about getting a dog?,” Clint asked. 

   Matt shrugged, “Well, I don’t really need a dog for navigation. So I’d really want one just for companionship. But I keep weird hours so it wouldn’t be fair to the dog.” Foggy had tried to  convince him to get a seeing eye dog once. He had considered it, but he really didn’t need one and didn’t want to waste resources for someone who did. 

   “Yeah, it’s hard with Lucky sometimes. But you’re right, I do sleep better with him by my side.” The two talked about their favorite types of dogs for a while. Bruce returned and started restocking some of the supplies. 

   “How long do you think he’ll be out?,” Clint asked Bruce, nodding at Stephen.

   “Probably several hours, between the medications and exhaustion. I didn’t give him any sedatives.”

   “Hopefully he wakes up calmer this time,” Clint replied. He really didn’t feel like fighting today. All three of them had bruises from the sorcerer. Clint had to give the man credit, he knew how to fight even without magic. 

   “So what’s the plan from here?,” Matt asked. Bruce thought for a minute. 

   “It’ll probably take a few days for him to start feeling better and building his physical strength back up. We do need to address the psychological part of what happened. And the nightmares. None of us are qualified, but I don’t see him being willing to talk to a psychologist.”

  “I never thought I would, but the guy who helped me after the shit with Loki was really good. He specializes in helping people with supernatural trauma,” Clint noted. “I could probably get an appointment set up.”

   Bruce nodded. “That would be perfect. We don’t want to push him, there’s no rush. We just have to be here to support him. I’m pretty sure we all know what it’s like to be haunted by our nightmares to a certain degree.” Clint and Matt both nodded in agreement. 

   Matt agreed to take the first watch while Bruce and Clint got some rest. Lucky stayed curled up next to Stephen, the two of them sleeping peacefully. 

===============================================================

   It was almost two hours later when Stephen started moving. He was breathing heavier and jerking in his sleep. Matt recognized the change in his heartbeat and knew he was having a nightmare. It didn’t seem as bad as the ones before. He wasn’t sure whether to wake him up or not. He knew the sorcerer needed sleep, but he obviously didn’t want him to suffer from any more nightmares. Stephen was now mumbling, Matt couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but he sounded distressed. Matt was about to carefully wake him up, he didn’t want an elbow to the face, when Stephen inhaled sharply and jerked awake. 

   “You’re ok, you’re in the tower. You were having a nightmare, just a normal nightmare,” Matt explained calmly as Strange quickly sat up. His breathing was heavier, but not as frantic as earlier. Same with his heart rate. He seemed more disoriented than anything. 

   “Right,” Stephen replied breathlessly. He seemed to get his bearings. 

   “Are you ok?,” Matt asked. 

   Strange had leaned forward to put his head in his hands and was taking deep breaths.“Trying not to throw up.”

   Matt quickly nudged the trash can next to him. Stephen continued breathing deeply for a few moments then finally sat back against the pillows. “I think it passed.”

   “Do you want me to get Bruce?,” Matt asked. 

   “No, let him rest.” The two sat quietly for a few minutes. Stephen pet Lucky, who had managed to sleep through everything. 

   “Do you want to talk?,” Matt asked. He could understand if he didn’t want to open up about everything, but he wanted to give him the chance. 

   Stephen was quiet for a minute. “I don’t really want to. But I guess it might help,” he said reluctantly. 

   “Don’t feel pressured to. Just know you don’t have to do this alone,” Matt said nodding.

   “I know, thanks. It was another nightmare. It wasn’t as vivid as the ones before, obviously.”

   “I can imagine that after what you’ve been through the past two days it’s jarring to have another nightmare so soon.”

   Stephen nodded. “I was dreading it. But actually, compared to how terrible the ones earlier were, it wasn’t as bad somehow.” He had been preparing himself for another round of torture, but had been met with an ordinary nightmare. Something he had dealt with for years. 

  For the first time Stephen realized he would be ok. He could deal with ordinary nightmares. He could rest and rebuild his strength. His magic would return. He wasn’t filled with dread. 

   He and Matt made small talk for a while and he found himself drifting back off to sleep. He didn’t fight it. He knew whatever dreams he had would be nothing compared to the hell he had endured. Maybe it was true about what doesn’t kill you making you stronger. 

==============================================================

   It was hours later when he woke again. Fortunately he hadn’t had any more nightmares. He hadn’t really had pleasant dreams; but they were bearable. He looked to see Clint, Matt, and Bruce talking. 

   “Hey, how’s it going?,” Matt asked. Lucky was wedged between him and Clint.

   “Better,” he replied. He definitely felt less terrible than before. He wasn’t completely exhausted and in pain. He was mainly just tired and achy. 

   “How’s the nausea and pain?,” Bruce asked. 

   “Definitely better than before.”

   “That’s good,” Bruce said. He took his vital signs again. “Your fever’s gone down. It’s almost back to normal,” he stated a few minutes later, checking the thermometer. 

   “I can tell,” Stephen replied. He felt more focused and calm. 

   Bruce turned to face him. “It’s good that you’re feeling better. But if you want to continue getting better, you really need to rest.”

   Stephen sighed, “I know. I was an idiot.” It was hard for him to admit when he’d messed up, but in this instance he knew he had made a mistake. “You’ve been trying to help and I haven’t made it easy,”

   “It’s ok. You were sleep deprived and sick and not making good decisions,” Bruce said. 

   “Trust me, I’ve been on missions where I’ve almost been compromised because of that,” Clint replied, “Like one time, in Russia, I had been up over 24 hours and had a bad cold on top of that. I decided it would be a good idea to single handedly infiltrate a base. Luckily, Natasha saw what was going on a tackled me into a snowbank. And then handcuffed me to a snowmobile before I did anything else stupid.”

   “Well, I appreciate it,” Stephen stated. He wasn’t good at talking about feelings but he was grateful for his teammates and knew it would have been really hard to get through this without them. “I just hate…” He sighed. 

   “Feeling weak?,” Clint finished. 

   “Yeah,” Stephen replied looking somewhat surprised that Clint knew where he was going.

   “That’s how I felt after the brainwashing with Loki. Everyone was walking on eggshells around me, afraid to set me off. And the stupidest things freaked me out.”

   Stephen nodded. “It’s just, all this brought back the memories from after the accident. Being sick and in pain, stuck with needles, having to go through humiliating medical procedures in front of my co-workers. I just felt so helpless and knew I never wanted to feel like that again.”

   “I still hate hospitals,” Matt said, “they remind me of after the accident when my senses were overpowered. All the smells and sounds I couldn’t block out. It was torture. Foggy dragged me to the ER during college once, because I had pneumonia…”

   “Because you had refused to go to the doctor when you first got sick,” Clint said knowingly. 

   “Yeah. Well, I had a high fever and was freaked out by everything and ended up crying. One of the nursing students was there, it was so embarrassing.” 

   Stephen felt better knowing he wasn’t the only one with bad memories that tended to resurface during his more susceptible moments. 

   “Most people wouldn’t have survived what you went through and come out of it a better person. We know how strong you are. And we’ve all been there in situations where we’ve felt helpless and vulnerable. It’s frustrating, and scary as hell really,” Bruce added. 

   Stephen hadn’t been this open with anyone in a long time. And he suspected the same for his teammates. “I appreciate everything,” he finally said. 

   “That’s what friends are for,” Clint replied. Bruce and Matt nodded in agreement, making Stephen smile. 

   “Do you feel up to eating something?,” Bruce asked.

   Stephen nodded, “Something light.”

   “We can do dinner and a movie if you’re feeling up to it.”

   “I’d like that,” Stephen replied. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like after what these four have gone through together the past couple of days they would feel like they could be honest and open up with each other. They also have a lot in common. 
> 
> There's going to be one chapter after this to wrap things up. I think Stephen has finally turned a corner in admitting he needs help and accepting his friends' help.


	9. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen slowly begins to build up his strength and practice magic. Although, he has to overcome some setbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! I've really enjoyed writing this story. It's so hard to end them.

   It was several days later and Stephen could feel his magic slowly building back up. It took all of his willpower not to test himself and do spells. But passing out had been really embarrassing and he really didn’t want to repeat that experience. So he found ways to occupy his time. 

   He did yoga with Bruce to stretch and relax and help build his strength up. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it; he did a lot of yoga at Kamar Taj but hadn’t had time since then. He mentioned this to Bruce. 

   “You can always feel free to join me. I do this every day. Usually around 9. We could make it a regular thing if you wanted.”

   “That sounds good,” Stephen replied. Bruce was a good teacher and had helped him modify some of the stretches that he couldn’t really do because they put too much weight on his hands. 

   He watched the show  _ Dog Cops _ with Clint. He was surprised by how into it he was getting. Clint was all too happy to rewatch the series and fill him in on interesting facts. It had been forever since he had watched a TV show regularly. Before, he had always been to busy with work. Now, he didn’t own a TV. He mentioned this when Clint started talking about the new season premiere being in a week. 

   “Really? All of that magical crap and you don’t own a TV?”

   “I don’t think that was a high priority for the previous Sanctum residents. Besides, a TV would probably get destroyed pretty quickly.”

   “Well, you can come watch it at my place if you want. It’s not too far. We could do a small premiere party, order pizza. I could invite Kate and a few other people over.”

   “I’d like that,” Stephen replied.

   He helped Matt make dinner one night. Matt had his own kitchen area with everything labeled in braille. Honestly, he didn’t really need it. His sense of smell was so strong he could identify pretty much everything. They were making pasta and Matt was showing Stephen his recipes for marinara and alfredo sauces. 

   “Do you cook a lot?,” Stephen asked as he stirred a pot of pasta. It was one of the things he was able to do with his hands. 

   Matt shrugged, “I guess. I’m not really good at it or anything. I just like all of the smells and tastes and making everything come together. Besides, it’s a good distraction.” He put a pan of garlic bread in the oven. “How about you?.”

   “Well, when I was a surgeon I didn’t have a lot of time, I ordered out a lot. Now, Wong does a lot of the cooking. I have trouble because of my hands. You know, things that requires dexterity like using knives or shaping dough. I can get around a lot of that with magic though.” Stephen had stopped stirring for a minute because his hand had cramped up. He wished he could use a spell. 

   Matt nodded. “I understand. There’s a lot I have to figure out ways around too. Even with my senses.” While he could navigate using his senses, a lot of people forgot he was blind. He couldn’t computer or TV screens, he couldn’t see faces. His views of people he knew were made up of familiar smells and the sound of their heartbeat. 

   The two finished up making dinner and talked some more about daily tasks they struggled with and their experiences in college. Matt filled Stephen in on some of him and Foggy’s best stories. 

   “This is amazing,” Stephen stated as he sampled their work. 

   Matt smiled, “Thanks. I do an Italian dish every Friday night.”

   “I’m sure you do great a lasagna.”

   “I could do that next time if you wanted to come by. It’s nice having someone to help out in the kitchen.”

   “I’m not sure how much of a help I was, but I’d be happy to do it again.”

   His social calendar was looking more full than it had in a long time. Most of his activities had been work related before. And lately he had been focused on his studies of the mystic arts. It would be a nice change of pace to spend some time with non-sorcerers. And maybe Wong would get off his back about working too much. 

   Bruce and Clint joined them for dinner then they all watched a movie after. There was a knock at the door and Clint went to answer. Suddenly there was a thud and a blur of red and Stephen found himself covered in the familiar weight of his Cloak. 

   “Where did you come from?,” he said in surprise as he stroked the fabric. This had been the longest they’d been apart since the Cloak had come to him.

   “I got tired of watching the Cloak mope around.” Stephen looked up to see Wong enter the room. 

   Stephen stood up. “It’s good to see you.” 

   “You look terrible,” Wong replied. It was his way of saying he had missed Stephen too. 

   “You should have seen him before. He’s looking a hell of a lot better compared to that,” Clint said entering the room. 

   “I’m not surprised,” Wong stated. He knew Stephen had no sense of self preservation. He had been worried about him the past few days. He figured he’d use the Cloak as an excuse to come check up on him. Although, he was actually tired of the Cloak moping around. 

   “I am feeling a lot better than I was,” Stephen stated. He definitely wasn’t one hundred percent, but he was getting there.   

   “That’s good. Just don’t push things. Especially magic. You have to let your body heal first.”

   Stephen sighed. He knew this. He had had to figure it out the hard way. “I know.”

   Wong stayed and ate some of Matt’s pasta and watched the rest of the movie with them. He was a lot more up to date on pop culture than anyone gave him credit for. Before he left he used a spell to scan Stephen and check his magic to see where he was. 

   “Well, it’s not great. But it could be a lot worse. Give it a couple of weeks and you could start using magic again. Slowly.” It wasn’t exactly what Stephen had wanted to hear. But it’s what he had expected. 

   “Bruce said I should be cleared to come back to the Sanctum in the next few days.”

   Wong nodded. “It will be safe until your return.” 

   “I know. I feel a lot better knowing you’re watching over the Sanctum. Thank you.” Stephen was grateful for his friend. 

   “Of course. Take care Stephen. I will see you soon.” Wong opened a portal and went back to the Sanctum. 

   Stephen felt an itching in his fingers to open a portal. He took a deep breath and went back to join his friends. Patience definitely wasn’t his strong suit. But it had only been a few days and he had come a long way. He knew he’d be back to using magic in no time. 

===============================================================

   Stephen walked through the doors of the Sanctum and took a deep breath. It had only been about a week, but he had missed the place. Bruce had examined him this morning and cleared him to leave. He was still sore and tired, but he was feeling more like his old self. He’d feel even more like his old self when he could use his magic again.

   “Give it a few days,” Wong said. 

   “Give what a few days?.”

   Wong sighed. “I know that look. Give it a few days and you can start building your magic back up.”

   “Fine,” Stephen finally conceded. 

   He decided to use the time reading and memorizing new spells. Finally, a couple of days later, Wong stood with him in the library. He had approved Stephen to start using magic, in small quantities, again after scanning him with the spell. 

   Stephen started with a small illusion spell. It was one he had learned early on. He could do it in his sleep. He took a deep breath and pushed back his frustration as the illusion flickered. It finally flared out and he kicked the chair nearest him. Fortunately it wasn’t one of the sentient chairs, or it might have bitten his toes off. 

   “It’s going to take time. You can’t expect someone to go out and run a marathon after being seriously ill.”

   He knew Wong was right, but he wasn’t in the mood for logic or reason at the moment. It felt like after all his training and hard work he was back at square one. He started the spell again. 

   Another frustrating hour later, he had finally moved beyond the basic spell to a more intermediate one. Wong had encouraged him when he became frustrated and kept him focused. 

   “That’s enough for today,” Wong stated. He could tell Stephen was becoming exhausted both physically and magically. 

   “I’ve almost got it,” Stephen replied focusing more energy on the spell. A second later the cloak smacked his hand and the spell vanished. “Fine.” He wouldn’t admit it, but he was ready for a break. As frustrating as the day had been it felt good to use magic again. 

==================================================================

   He spent the next week slowly building up his strength. He practiced spells in the mornings and read in the afternoons. He also kept his plans with the Avengers. He did yoga with  Bruce and joined them for dinner (which he helped Matt cook). He was even able to portal himself to Clint’s apartment for the premiere of  _ Dog Cops  _ later in the week. 

   “I love this show,” Clint said taking a swig of beer and helping himself to another piece of pizza. Stephen reached for a piece and frowned in confusion when his hand brushed cardboard. He could have sworn there had been a piece there just a second ago. He heard chomping noises from the corner and looked to see Lucky finishing off the slice. He laughed and opened the second box. 

   Kate hadn’t been able to make it over, so it was just Clint and Stephen. But the two were having a good time hanging out and enjoying pizza and beer. 

   They finished the premiere and watched some more TV as they made their predictions for what would happen next week. 

   At some point Stephen fell asleep on the couch and woke up confused a few hours later. 

   “It’s cool, you’re still at my place. You fell asleep,” Clint calmly explained when Stephen had bolted awake. His confusion slowly dissipated as he remembered where he was. 

   “Shit. I’m sorry,” Stephen said sitting up. He was somewhat embarrassed that he had passed out on Clint’s couch in the middle of their marathon. 

   “It’s all good. I’ve slept in much weirder places,” Clint replied. He took a sip from his mug of coffee. “You’re welcome to stay the night. It’s already 3 am. I have a guest bedroom.”

   Stephen thought for a moment. The prideful part of him wanted to say no, he would go home (and forget he had fallen asleep there). But he really didn’t want to walk home late at night and he was really tired. Besides, Clint had already seen him at his lowest. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it,” he finally replied. He texted Wong where he was, so he wouldn’t worry and then settled in for the night. 

   The next morning he woke up to the smell of burning pancakes.

   “So, we’re having cereal,” Clint said as he walked into the kitchen. There was smoke and charred pancake batter everywhere. 

   “Cereal’s good,” Stephen replied trying not to laugh. He knew Clint had tried. But he was a terrible cook. Even Matt had given up on teaching him. Clint had several different types of cereal; all of them sugary and colorful and designed for children. Stephen didn’t mind. He hadn’t had Cinnamon Toast Crunch in years. 

   “Thank you, for letting me stay over,” Stephen finally said as the two finished their breakfast. 

   “Any time,” Clint replied smiling. After a moment he finally asked, “Look, you can tell me to back off if you don’t want to talk about it or whatever. I totally get it. But, have you been sleeping ok?” He had seen how tired Stephen had looked when he came over. His suspicions were confirmed when he had passed out. 

   Stephen thought about dodging the question, but he was grateful for everything Clint had done. He decided to answer honestly. “Overall, I’ve been sleeping ok. It’s just every now and then I’ll get a nightmare. I hadn’t slept well the night before, that’s why I was so tired yesterday.” 

   Clint nodded. “I dealt with the same thing, after Loki. Sometimes I’d be fine and then there were some nights it would hit me.”

   “It’s gotten better than it was. I think it’ll get better given more time,” Stephen replied. At least it wasn’t every night. 

   “Well, if you ever want to talk to anyone I have the name of the therapist guy I had talked to. I was totally skeptical at first but he really helped me. But I’m not trying to push you or anything.”

   Stephen nodded, “I appreciate it. I’ll think about it.”

   “Cool. I’m also here if you ever want to talk. Or even if you just want to hang out and not talk.”

   “I know, I really appreciate it,” Stephen replied sincerely. The two finished their breakfast and hung out for a while before Stephen went back to the Sanctum. 

====================================================================

   He continued practicing his magic and tried his best to pace himself. However, he did start to get a little cocky at one point and attempted a new spell he had been wanting to try. He ended up with a severe case of vertigo and almost fell down the stairs. Fortunately, the Cloak kept him upright. Wong heard the commotion and came to see what was happening. 

   “That was a bad idea,” Stephen said, sinking onto the floor. He had his head in his hands. 

   “What did you do?,” Wong asked with slight exasperation. 

   “I didn’t think the spell would be that difficult.” Stephen nodded at the book on the floor. Wong rolled his eyes. Only Doctor Stephen Strange would think a spell that advanced wasn’t “that difficult”. Fortunately, he’d be ok once the vertigo passed. 

   “You have to be careful. You’re just now getting your strength back,” Wong reminded him. He had honestly been surprised by the restraint Stephen had shown. He had expected this to happen a lot sooner. 

   “Please don’t lecture me. Or at least wait until the room stops spinning,” Stephen replied. He attempted to stand up. “Oh god…” Wong conjured a bucket in front of Stephen right before he threw up. 

   Wong and the Cloak helped Stephen over to the couch. Wong figured the effects of the spell would pass pretty quickly. Stephen eventually fell asleep and slept for several hours. When he woke up he was glad to find that the room was no longer spinning and he was feeling better, just tired. 

   He and Wong were eating dinner a few hours later.

   “How are you feeling?,” Wong asked. 

   “Better. Definitely not as bad as when I tried to open the portal.”

   Wong nodded. “You’ve built up more strength since then. This was just a temporary effect of the spell. It’s what happens when you try to cast a spell you don’t have the energy for.”

   Stephen sighed. “I know. I’ll be more careful.”

   “You’ve been doing well so far. You’ll be back to it before you know it.”

====================================================================

   That night he had another nightmare. They had become less frequent, but they still bothered him. The cloak flew to his side and he ran his fingers over the fabric. He took deep breaths and grounded himself. He went downstairs and decided to meditate for a while. 

   “What are you doing up?,” Wong asked. 

   Stephen had been meditating for about thirty minutes. He cracked an eye open, “What are  _ you _ doing up?.” 

   “I just came from a meeting at Kamar Taj. Different time zone.” Dammit. 

   “Couldn’t sleep,” Stephen finally said. He braced himself to be interrogated about his nightmares. 

   “I’ll make some tea,” Wong said after a moment. Stephen sighed in relief. About ten minutes later the two drank chamomile tea as Wong filled him in on the meeting. After a while Stephen felt himself nodding off and decided to go back upstairs to get some sleep. 

   “Thank you,” he said to Wong as he headed up the stairs. He was grateful for his friend’s quiet companionship and understanding. He was grateful for all of his friends and everything they had done for him. 

   “Sleep well Stephen.”

===============================================================

   Over the next couple of weeks he made a lot of progress and had (carefully) moved up to more advanced spells. Wong told him in about a month or two he would probably be back to normal. He had also continued hanging out with his friends. It really was nice to have social activities again. 

   The nightmares had gotten less frequent but he had decided to see the therapist Clint had recommended. He ended up really getting along with him and got a lot of useful tips for dealing with his nightmares when they did occur. He made plans to see him every other week. 

   It had been a long few weeks, with some of the toughest days since his accident. He had thought that he would never get this far and would be magicless and broken and sick. But he knew he was going to be ok. He knew his friends would be by his side and he would be strong again. Stronger, actually, after surviving this.

   He quickly shelved the book he had been reading and told Wong he would be back later; he had plans to hang out with Bruce, Clint, and Matt tonight.  He felt the magic flow through his hands and smiled as he opened a portal to the tower and stepped through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to do an epilogue, but I liked how things wrapped up at the end of this chapter. It's been a lot of fun writing this story! Thanks to everyone who's read it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was not beta'd so please excuse any errors. I'm also not a medical expert so I apologize for any medical inaccuracies. I try to do my research, but the internet isn't quite the same as actual medical training.


End file.
